


Not my fault

by Alphawave



Series: The universe sings [14]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Frottage, Glory Hole, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Sex Club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22319776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphawave/pseuds/Alphawave
Summary: Modern!AU. The arrival of Dr Harold Winston has taken its toll on Siebren's currently celibate lifestyle, distracting him from his very important work.It's Harold's fault Siebren needs to find relief in a sex club. That's what Siebren convinces himself, at least.
Relationships: Dr. Harold Winston/Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper
Series: The universe sings [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1434493
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Not my fault

**Author's Note:**

> _I am surprised and disappointed that Sigma doesn't have foot job fics. I mean, he's got TOES. As artists, we have to do him the due diligence of inferring a fetish based on a singular character trait and running wild XD_

It was all Dr Winston’s fault. He was entirely the reason for everything. That was what Dr Siebren de Kuiper convinced himself to think. Because it was indeed his fault. If he hadn’t decided to move to the university Siebren worked at, if he hadn’t decided to work in the astrophysics department despite being an astrobiologist, if he was ugly or rude or otherwise boring, perhaps this all could have been avoided and Siebren would know peace in his life. But alas, Dr Winston did work in Siebren’s building, with his lab and office a few doors down from Siebren’s own, and he was as nice and as pleasant a man could possibly be. 

It would be best if Harold was just slightly late, or just came in at a slightly different time from Siebren, but no, he always came to his office at around the same time as Siebren did. It’s almost scary how often this occured, to the point that Siebren worried Harold might have been stalking him, but after conducting some private experiments in that regard, he’d confirmed that the events were not correlated. Pure coincidence, he decided, but he had to make sure by doublechecking Harold's background. He learned of Harold's career, his previous relationships, his prize project in the form of a talking, genetically engineered gorilla and hamster. 

In hindsight, Siebren shouldn't have looked so thoroughly into Harold's life. But he was looking for little nuggets of truths to tell him that Harold was not the most perfect human being to grace this lonely Earth. Siebren found nothing. His colleagues found him diligent and hardworking, his friends found him warm and bright, if a bit obsessed with the stars, which Siebren saw more as a boon anyway. The only thing Siebren got from it was a gnawing ache in his chest whenever he so much as glanced at Harold.

It would be best if Harold wasn’t so thoughtful and caring. Just went to his office and shut the door behind him. But he was popular with the students within the university for being approachable. Every morning Siebren would hear Harold’s soft laugh, see his crinkled eyes glitter with mirth and those plump, kissable lips pulled up into a breathtaking smile. Harold was by no means the most attractive man Siebren had ever seen, but there was something about the way these individual parts fit together into that beautiful whole. It made Siebren want to shut that infernal mouth with his tongue and bite on those lips until they're a brilliant red.

He didn't realise he'd been staring until his phone alarm went off, signalling the time he should head to class. A full half hour he spent staring at a man's neck. Something was wrong with him. 

It took a long time for Siebren to understand that what he was feeling was attraction. Longer still to admit to himself that he was specifically attracted to Harold. He’s had a few labels to describe himself in the past. Asexual, demisexual, but that didn’t corroborate with why he found himself thinking about Harold so much. They’ve talked maybe a few times since the start of Harold’s tenure. They weren’t friends, they weren’t working together on a project, and they were barely acquaintances. Except Harold Winston was famous in his field, both for his research and for the fact that he applied to make a genetically engineered gorilla his legal son. Siebren heard enough from the conversations that he overheard and from his colleagues and Harold’s likes and dislikes, his wants and desires. Theoretically they'd be compatible. 

Still, this relationship wouldn’t work out. They were both busy, and Siebren was uncertain of Harold’s sexuality. Siebren didn’t need a relationship, his mind knew that, but it was frighteningly easy to imagine the two of them in a variety of situations in which they were naked and wanting, where Siebren could enact his wildest fantasies—which, in his case, were rather tame. His favourite one was Harold on his knees, servicing Siebren’s pulsating cock with his hot and wet mouth, moaning deeply as he palmed himself. Before Siebren realised it, he’d find his pants tented, his cock begging for attention in the real world.

If these fantasies were fleeting things, Siebren could excuse it, but they tortured him for weeks now, attacking him when he least expected it. He couldn’t concentrate on his research while he was furiously masturbating every day to the thought of the man a few doors down from him, a man that could easily barge in on him and know his most shameful secret. 

There was no way around it. Siebren needed release. As crude of a description it was, he needed to get laid.

Of course, that led to its own problems. He didn’t want things to be complicated and he certainly wasn’t looking for a relationship. No one needed to know his identity and ruin his scientific reputation, and he didn’t have the patience to interact with messy human beings and their even messier feelings. All he needed was a fling, a good fuck, or someone to give him a good fuck; at this point he would settle for either. It narrowed his options considerably but there was one place near the university that might sate his cravings, and after a light dinner he made his way there.

It was Harold’s fault that he came to such a seedy establishment such as this one. He’d heard of the reputation of this LGBT-friendly sex club, and was secretly glad the rumours weren’t far off. It was far from clean, but it wasn’t particularly dirty either. The people that came here were from all walks of life, dressed in all manners of dress. It was predominantly men at the main area, where people could stare at the strippers, drink, or make out with each other like the crowd didn’t exist. But that was not what Siebren was here for. He slipped his way past, through a hallway next to the bathrooms. Lit in blue light was a shower room with a thin wall running through the middle, splitting the room into two sections. From the entrance he could hear the slick slide of tongues upon cocks, hushed moans of pleasure, and the occasional knocks of fists on the wall.

He glanced up at the two signs, each pointing to one section. To the left was the ‘receivers’ and the right was the ‘givers’. Spraypainted above the signs were the words ‘gloryhole room’ and ‘no time wasters’. Crude, but it got the message across An omnic in the club uniform glanced up to give Siebren a once-over before returning to whatever it was they were doing with their elbow. Siebren researched the prices beforehand, slipping a bill on the desk in front of them.

“Number 12,” the omnic said without looking up. “Second from the end. Any funny stuff, you’ll get one warning. Second time, you’re thrown out and banned. Understood?”

Siebren nodded quickly. He took a deep breath and headed down the right.

As he expected there were more than a few men who had occupied the various gloryholes, each one numbered, possibly for the convenience of those that wished to enact certain fantasies. Most had their pants down to their ankles, bracing the walls with their cock through the modestly sized holes to the other section of the room where they were getting serviced. A few were watching from a distance, cocks in their hands as they watched with thinly veiled interest, their precum stark white against the blue light. At the end of the room was a small vending machine that provided condoms of all different flavours and types, as well as a few different brands of lube.

Siebren didn’t come to this place completely unprepared. He bought a packet of condoms a few days ago and stuffed a few into his pocket earlier this morning. Did he want this so bad that he would put it on in front of a couple of strangers? Did he want to get pleasured so badly that he’d let a complete stranger suck on his cock, here where anybody could see and recognise him?

“Mmmm,” a burly tattooed man at the gloryholes moaned. His head was thrown back, eyes shut, mouth open. “Fuck, yes, there, oh fuck.”

This man was the loudest, but he wasn’t the only one saying such things. All around him there were moans and groans of pleasure as the wet sounds echoed throughout the room. A flicker of envy filled his loins. He wanted to feel what they felt, that indescribable heat, that intoxicating pleasure. He'd felt it only briefly before, in his last relationship many _many_ years ago. 

An image of Harold with his tongue sticking out flickered in Siebren’s mind. His cock grew hard in his pants. It's been far too long.

The last of Siebren’s willpower crumbled as he tentatively took his belt off and slid his pants down to his ankles. He took his cock out of his underwear, stroking it slowly to full mast. A few gasps could be heard faintly behind him but he tried to ignore them to the best of his ability as he ripped the condom packet open and slid it down his member. His cheeks were crimson as he pressed his cock through the hole, just barely fitting through.

This was either the best idea or the worst idea he’s ever had in his life. He wasn’t sure which it was yet.

He waited for someone to settle on the opposite side. He knew his cock was particularly large, knew that it would be intimidating for most people to try and service him with their mouth alone, but he was hoping someone in this place would be adventurous enough to try. A few hands went to touch his throbbing member, stroking him slowly before retreating. The brief pleasure was good, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He needed something hot and wet to stick his cock inside. A mouth, or a hole. Something.

On the other side of the wall, someone settled down on their knees. A man, Siebren guessed, judging by the deep timbre in which they gulped audibly. Their fingers traced the head lightly before sliding slowly down the shaft. Their tongue licked the tip experimentally, as if testing to see if their mouth could fit. Siebren held his breath, cheeks crimson as he wondered if this person would stay.

The stranger knocked once on the wall. In places like these, Siebren heard it was the equivalent of asking permission. He rasped his knuckles once in reply. Permission was granted.

Before he knew it, a pair of lips, and then a wanting mouth swallowed his head, pushing deep. Siebren barely suppressed a strangled noise. One hand felt for the hand holds conveniently placed on the wall while the other covered his mouth. _Mijn God_ , this was unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Slow and steady, with the right amount of slickness and a dizzyingly perfect amount of pressure. It had been so long since he’s had a blowjob. He couldn’t even recall whether any of the ones he had were good. Suddenly none of his previous partners could compare. No one else had made him see stars.

The mouth on his cock began to bob up and down slowly, one hand stroking the base to the same rhythm. It’s a large hand with powerful but lithe fingers, pressing into his veiny cock lightly. Siebren tried to imagine the kind of man who would have hands like that. The only conclusion he came up with was that he did not pay attention to hands enough. He would after today. Not even his own hand felt this glorious.

But it was nothing compared to that wicked tongue. It slid across his glans, dipping down to the frenulum. The man’s mouth barely fit Siebren’s cock, but he still found a way to flick his tongue over the head, swirling it over all the sensitive places before pulling slightly. Siebren gasped harshly, no longer able to hide his noises.

A moan escaped the man’s lips as his hand retreated. Before Siebren could even question what he planned to do, the man forced himself all the way down to Siebren’s base. The head of Siebren’s cock brushed against the back of their throat and the man moaned again. From this angle, Siebren could just barely make out a stubbly chin and plump, pink lips dribbling saliva.

From this angle, the stranger looked a lot like Harold.

In a matter of moments Siebren felt a jolt of electricity roll down his spine to his cock, making it swell. He bit lightly on his lip. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

His hips rolled forward, bringing about a muffled gasp and then a satisfied groan. This man even sounded a bit like Harold, which only let the visions behind Siebren’s eyes become even more vivid. It was easy to imagine the wall disappearing, Harold taking the place of this stranger, his eyes shut tight behind his thick rimmed glasses, cheeks hollow as he swallowed Siebren’s pulsating cock. The world was disappearing from his vision, leaving him only with that perfect sensation running up his groin and his rampant imagination, filling in the blanks for him.

He couldn’t help himself. Siebren began to thrust into the hole, quiet noises dripping down his lips. The stranger began to bob his head again at a faster pace, his own needy little noises escaping. Siebren pushed, and the stranger pulled. The heat of a dying star was in Siebren’s groin, and it was only growing hotter and hotter. His thrusts were getting sharper, his forehead was beginning to sweat. They both knew he was close. If only Siebren could tell this man he’d never gotten to such a state so fast. If only Siebren wasn’t so much of a coward to tell this mysterious stranger with the gorgeous lips that he was easily the best he’s had. Surely Harold would be just as good, if not better. 

Siebren wouldn’t be able to go back to his own hand, or to his own selection of sex toys. This stranger, without realizing it, had created a monster.

“Ah,” the voice gasped, higher-pitched and wanting as their lips slid away. Siebren groaned when he felt the cool air hit his cock until he felt that same hand wrap around his shaft, stroking him furiously. From this side, Siebren could hear the sound of a hand scraping over a zipper. The stranger was palming his own dick through his pants. They were hard.

The vision before his eyes shifted, and now Harold was on his knees, pleasuring himself for all to see. The skin of his cock was glistening as he stroked it furiously, mouth open as he whispered Siebren’s name like a prayer. It was almost too much. Siebren closed his eyes and imagined this was Harold’s tongue, this was Harold’s touch. It was so vivid he could taste it. His hips were slamming into the wall, the heat rising in his core. He wanted to praise this stranger, tell him they were so good, the best he’s ever had. He wanted to moan out a name, but there was only one that could slip from his tongue so easily. _Harold, Harold._

The stranger hummed lewdly. The supernova erupted without warning, staining the condom white. Siebren groaned lewdly, his legs quivering as he almost buckled to the floor.

It took him several seconds to recover, quickly straightening up and sliding his hips out. It took him several more seconds afterwards, while he was cleaning up, to realise that he thought of Harold throughout that entire encounter.

This experiment was a failure. The entire point of coming here was to avoid thinking about Harold and rid his minds of these insignificant cravings. Instead, his fantasies had only gotten more vivid, now that he knew what it felt like to receive such a mind-blowing blowjob. He wanted to get Harold out of his mind. Now, his thoughts were consumed by him.

This was all Harold’s fault.

He stuffed his shrinking cock back into his pants and headed out before the stranger could say anything more. He just had to head to the end of the room, turn right, and head out into the hallway. Just get home and think about how horrendously stupid this entire plan was and forget he even tried this.

He turned the corner and headed for the hallway, only to come face to face with Dr Harold Winston himself.

Siebren blinked rapidly, certain his mind was playing tricks on his eyes. But no, it was Harold, wide eyed and terrified and all too real. And he had just came from the other side of the gloryhole room.

“D-Dr Winston?” 

“D-Dr de Kuiper!” Harold said, violently turning his head away. His cheeks were crimson. Flustered like this, he looked like a deer in headlights. He was absolutely adorable. “I-I won’t tell if you don’t tell. T-this is just between you and me.”

“W-what? I…n-no! No, I’m not here to judge. I…” Siebren cleared his throat loudly. “I-I won’t say anything. I promise.”

“G-good.” He glanced up at Siebren. “Thanks.”

Siebren turned his head away. “You’re welcome,” Siebren murmured.

A palpable silence fell between the two of them as they stared at everything except each other. What did this mean? If Harold was here, that meant he was sexually interested in men. _Very_ interested, if he went to the gloryhole room of all places. But if he was on the receiving end of the room, did that mean he had someone’s cock in his mouth?

Harold seemed to predict the question before he said, “I-I don’t go to these places, really. I’ve just…it’s been a while, and I’ve been single for a really long time, and I don’t know many people here and things have been getting stressful at the university which is making me pent-up and…gosh, I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”

“It’s fine,” Siebren smiled nervously. “You were trying to relax. I-I was doing the same, if I must be honest. I’m…definitely not the type to come to places like this. I just wanted to clear my mind. Concentrate on my work better.”

“Makes sense. Never pictured you to come to a place like this. You’re always so prim and proper whenever I see you. Put together.” His lips thinned. “It’s intimidating.”

Siebren took in Harold’s swollen lips, his flush cheeks, and his crackly voice. The stubble pattern on his face was the same as the strangers. But if that was true, then that meant...

“You weren’t…” he gulped, “y-you didn’t happen to take number twelve did you?”

Harold’s eyebrows scrunched up for a few seconds before his eyes go wide. His hand went up to his lips. “O-Oh gosh, you weren’t…gosh.” His cheeks went even more red. “That’s one way to get to know each other.”

“I-indeed,” Siebren mumbled.

Harold was silent for several more seconds, deliberating what to say. Siebren’s eyes drifted from Harold’s crimson cheeks down to his pants. They were horribly tented, so hard that he could almost see the outline of Harold’s cock. Siebren swallowed loudly. God, Harold had just seen his cock. Harold actually sucked on his cock, and from the looks of it, he enjoyed himself. He didn’t know how to feel about this revelation. The closest word to describe it in English was _aroused._

Harold noticed Siebren’s stare at his crotch and rocked on the pads of his feet. “I didn’t get to, uh, _finish_ earlier.” He tugged at his pants awkwardly. “I-I’ll just deal with it later when I get back home. It was nice to see you, Dr de Kuiper.”

“Do you want me to deal with it?” Siebren asked quickly.

As soon as he said those words, Siebren silently cursed to himself. That was absolutely idiotic of him to say. Evidence suggested that Harold wanted to be left alone. There was no chance he was going to reciprocate, not with how awkward this conversation was. Besides, the entire point of this escapade was to avoid messy conversations and even messier emotions. Asking to personally deal with Harold’s _ailment_ defeated the entire purpose of using a gloryhole in the first place. 

He didn't want a relationship, he told himself less than an hour ago, but why couldn’t he care anymore? What was so special about Harold that he was so willing to make an exception for him?

Harold’s eyes lowered to Siebren’s crotch. He inhaled sharply. “A-are you sure?” He squeaked.

“I-If you want me to,” Siebren stammered. “If you’ll allow me to.”

An incredible heat flickered within Harold’s eyes, and suddenly he took Siebren’s wrist and tugged him forward. He practically sprinted down the hallway, all the way to the opposite end of the club where the private rooms were and slammed a couple of bills in front of the steward, before racing to the nearest unoccupied room. He slammed the door shut behind Siebren with a loud bang. 

Inside the room was a large king size bed with lush sheets and pillows, surrounded by numerous cushions on the floor. Next to it was a drawer with multiple boxes of condoms and lube bottles on top. On one side of the room was a small en-suite bathroom which had a very basic shower-bath combo. The other side had a small table with a few basic chairs and a small radio playing some smooth jazz.

Before Siebren could react, Harold pushed him into the bed, straddled his hips and dipped in for a searing kiss that had Siebren melting. Grabby little fingers curled on his shirt so he was unable to pull away. Not that Siebren wanted to. His head was swimming, taking in by the tide. Land seemed to be getting further and further away but Siebren did nothing to fight the current. Harold was sweeping him away and he was letting him. He wanted to be swept away by Harold.

When Harold broke away for air, he gave a bashful little smile. They were both nervous, Siebren realised, which had the strange effect of making Siebren feel less nervous. This was uncharted territory for the both of them. It was strangely comforting.

Harold smiled knowingly. “You haven’t done this before, have you?”

Siebren blushed brightly. “I’m not the type to have flings, let alone random sexual encounters with people I’ve barely met.”

“Neither of us are the type to have sex through a glory hole, but here we are,” Harold chuckled. Harold leaned back, far enough that he wasn’t taking too much of Siebren’s personal space but close enough for him to smell his cheap perfume. It did little to hide the scent of his lust and his sweat. Harold smelled intoxicating.

“Nervous?” Harold asked.

“Awkward,” Siebren grumbled. “Surely there’s a way to make this more comfortable for the both of us.”

“I think I might know a way or two,” Harold said. His hand cupped Siebren’s jaw, pulling his head towards him as he pressed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. It was all tongue, no teeth. Gentle yet authoritative. It was inconceivable in Siebren’s mind that Harold could kiss like this, so hot and needy and perfect. He expected it to be soft and sweet, and yet he wanted more. He wanted so much more of Harold’s greedy tongue. His own tongue flickered out, shy but eager as it explored the cavern that was Harold’s mouth.

He whined when Harold pulled back, a trail of saliva connecting their mouths. Harold’s eyes were glazed, unfocused, but brilliant.

“How are we doing this?” Harold breathed.

“I don’t know,” Siebren admitted. He couldn’t think after such a hot kiss. “W-whatever you want. Anything.”

“Really? Anything?” Harold raised his eyebrows incredulously.

“Obviously not _anything_.” Siebren rolled his eyes. “Do I have to be worried, Dr Winston?

“Don’t worry, I’m not _that_ much of a pervert,” Harold chuckled. “I guess first things first, we have to take our clothes off. After you.”

Siebren's brows furrowed. “Why me?”

“I’ve already seen your dick. Seeing the rest of you shouldn’t be that much more difficult.”

Siebren wanted to disagree, but Harold’s statement made logical sense, albeit in a twisted sort of way. He nodded microscopically, taking his jacket and shirt off in one fell swoop.

“H-hey, wait, let me turn arou—” Harold’s words died on his lips as he stared.

Siebren already knew he wasn’t necessarily a fan of people staring at him, but it was different when it came from Harold. His gaze was more curious, more heated as Siebren slipped his shoes off, then slid his pants down. Those dark eyes were doing something to Siebren’s body, making him feel electric, like gravity was constantly shifting in the pit of his stomach. Slowly he could feel himself get hard again. He liked it when Harold was staring at him. An interesting observation he should lock away for safekeeping. 

Before Siebren could take off his underwear, Harold leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Siebren’s neck as he began to grind down. Their erections rubbed together with glorious friction.

Siebren never understood why dry humping was a thing, but Harold was making him reconsider his original stance. He could feel the outline of Harold’s tented cock slide over his thin underwear, making him writhe in pleasure. In the privacy of the room, Harold was louder, panting heavily as his fingers glided down Siebren's back, slipping underneath the band of Siebren’s underwear to feel his bare ass. Siebren felt for the edge of Harold’s shirt, pulling it over his head. His lips latched onto Harold’s dark nipples, tilting his head up, letting his tongue swirl around the nubs until they were hard.

Harold moaned. “G-gosh, Siebren, _mmm._ Yessss.”

Siebren thought if he ever got into this situation that he’d want Harold to be quiet. Now that he had Harold in his lap, he couldn’t get enough. He wanted all these little noises. 

Siebren gave attention to both nipples before pulling away, wiping his mouth of saliva. “Stand up,” he said hoarsely.

With military quickness Harold leapt out of Siebren’s lap and stood standing just in front of the bed. Siebren leaned forward, eyes carefully straight as he undid Harold's belt. He tried to remind himself to calm down because he knew he was getting overzealous. To have Harold like this was already a dream come true and he did not want to mess this up. Fantasies flickered in the back of his mind, imagining all the different ways he could have Harold in this room. Even so, his fantasies could never take into account how sexy Harold looked in the flesh, slender with a bit of muscle at his abs and arms, a smattering of hair concentrated near his nipples, his teeth biting onto his lower lip in what could only be described as nervous excitement.

He tugged Harold’s pants and underpants down, letting them get kicked away from sight and mind. Harold’s cock sprung up, the tip mere centimetres from his nose. A shameful gasp escaped Siebren's lips.

Harold smiled sheepishly. “I-I know it’s not that big—”

“I-it’s fine,” Siebren interrupted. His cheeks were as rosy as tomatoes. “It’s good.”

 _Good_ was an understatement. It was everything Siebren thought it’d be, long and thin and slick. Beads of precum were already bubbling from the slit, threatening to drip down to the floor. The scent was light but present, suggesting that Harold washed it recently, and it was so unnecessary and considerate. It took all of Siebren’s willpower not to put it in his mouth already and lose himself to the pleasure. He fished for the condom in his pocket, ripped the packet and slid it down to the base with his hand.

He glanced up to Harold’s shimmering eyes, his gaze steady even as his blush betrayed him. He pulled Harold in until his knees pressed into the mattress. He chucked his own pesky underwear off, crawled to the edge of the bed, and pressed his lips to the head of Harold’s cock.

“Oh _gosh_ ,” Harold sighed. “The tip, get the— _mmm—tip_.”

Siebren let his tongue flicker over the slit, running down to the creases just below the head. His movements are slow and tepid, hesitant, like this was a carefully crafted dream and he would wake up with one wrong move. Perhaps that’d be for the best, he thought. Maybe then Harold would finally stop plaguing his senses.

“You really haven’t done this, have you?” Harold chuckled.

Siebren left Harold’s cock with a pop. “If you’re suggesting this is my first blowjob, you assume incorrect.”

“Sure, but don’t do it like this, just…” Harold tangled his fingers through Siebren’s hair. The gesture was affectionate. His smile was shy. “Look, I can tell you’re holding back. If you’re already doing this much, we might as well take this a bit further, hmm? I can take it. Really.”

Siebren grunted but did as Harold said, taking the tip into his mouth. He let his hand settle on the shaft, sliding up and down at a torturously slow pace. He made the horrible decision to glance up at Harold, eyebrows scrunched up and mouth open, making him look vulnerable and handsome. And Siebren was the one doing this. To real Harold, not the fictional Harold that haunted his dreams.

“So good,” Harold whispered. “God, no wonder you came to this place. Should’ve been on the other side with me.”

Siebren opened his throat a little bit more, taking a little bit more of Harold’s cock. Harold’s hips slid forward, a soft gasp leaving his lips as his cock twitched, and then suddenly his eyes went wide and he gripped painfully into Siebren’s hair.

“W-wait, stop, stop.”

Siebren begrudgingly let go, swiping his hand over his lips. “Did I do something?”

“No, I just…I’m already close and I don’t wanna finish this with a blowjob. That is, if you don’t mind.” He took a step back, his gaze sweeping down from Siebren’s face down to his feet. “Dr de Kuiper, will you…indulge me by at least listening to what I’m about to ask?”

“It’s Siebren,” he said. “I think we’ve skipped straight past the formalities now.”

Harold chuckled. “You can call me Harold then, if we're not being formal anymore.” His smile quickly faltered. “So…Siebren…are you familiar with footjobs?”

A crimson blush crept up his face. He was a bit more than familiar with that particular kink. He was by no means adverse to it, but he didn't think a man like Harold would be into such a thing. Not in his dreams, at least. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

“I am, but only if you want to.” His fingers dipped down to massage the soles of Siebren’s feet. “As I thought. You have beautiful feet.”

Any thought of protesting died when Harold traced his thumb at the arch, making Siebren shiver. His feet were sensitive, but something about Harold’s touch magnified that sensitivity by tens, perhaps even hundreds of times. It took all his willpower not to writhe in pleasure. 

“Y-you have a foot fetish?” Siebren asked weakly.

“I really don’t, but there’s something about _your_ feet.” His fingers glided up to the toes, tugging at them one by one. “My colleagues told me you don’t like shoes. I’ve heard you always keep yourself immaculate, so I assumed it was the same about your feet. And I know there is no link to the adage that a big foot size correlates to a big penis, but you’re so massive, and I’ve seen just now how big your penis is and…” Harold ducked his head, blushing. “I’m doing it again.”

Siebren wasn’t concentrating on the beautiful expression Harold just showed him. He was trying to process what Harold had just said. His cheeks were pink. “Have you been asking about me?”

Harold smiled. “You’re not slick, you know. I’ve seen you staring at me. I thought maybe there was a chance you might have found me attractive, but I could never tell.” Harold averted his gaze. “If you did, you’d be the first.”

“Don’t say that, you are handsome.”

“Really?” Harold whispered breathily before quickly collecting himself. “W-well, you are too. Gorgeous, I mean. Can’t believe I’ve got you here like this willingly. I would’ve thought I’d be beneath you, with you taking the reins. Can’t believe you want to do this with me.”

Siebren turned his head away, a hand went up to hide his crimson cheeks. He didn’t think he could take much more of those sweet words. They made him feel like something more could occur after this fragile night. “If you really want to do this, then I suppose we can experiment.”

Harold gave a breathy chuckle as he shuffled back onto the bed on his knees. Siebren crawled backwards, letting Harold lift his legs up to be in his lap. Harold settled himself, grasping Siebren’s feet in both hands and placed them together. He lifted them high, giving a very noisy kiss to the soles that made both of them giggle like school children; Siebren from ticklishness and Harold from nervous excitement. When Harold finally dropped them down, Siebren extended his leg slightly, dragging his toes up and down the shaft.

“Ahh,” Harold gasped. “G-gosh, there. Right— _haaah_ —there.”

It was taking all of Siebren’s willpower not to moan himself. His feet really were so sensitive, nerves firing in places he’d never felt them fire before, but he kept the pace up. He was observing Harold, the microscopic shivers, that glassy stare, those ardent noises that dripped from his mouth like honey. A twinge of possessiveness overcame Siebren. He didn’t want anyone else to have Harold. He wanted to be the outlier, the only one who could produce these results from Harold, the only one that Harold looked at like this. He wanted Harold to gaze upon him like the universe and its people didn’t matter.

He wanted Harold. He only wanted Harold. No one else could compare anymore. No one else could make him feel like this.

Harold suddenly took hold of Siebren’s feet, firmly holding them in place on his thighs. He slid his hips forward, the head of his cock brushing against the little gap in between the arches of Siebren’s feet. Siebren moaned loudly, before covering his mouth with his hands. That noise was obscene, shameful, ugly.

So why was Harold staring at him with the most dazed expression? His lips twisted into a half-smile as he thrusted his hips again. Siebren moaned again. His cock twitched.

“Well, that’s a reaction.” Harold chuckled.

“You are such a pervert,” Siebren countered.

“Says the man who’s hard already.”

“This is coming from the man fucking my feet.” Siebren smirked lightly.

“Touché,” Harold chuckled. He continued to rock his hips into the small opening. His shoulders rolled as his head went skyward. Siebren watched the tip of Harold’s cock thrust forward and back, utterly mesmerised as it appeared and disappeared through the arches of his feet. His hand went to his own engorged cock, stroking it to the rhythm of Harold’s hips.

It wasn’t long before Harold was panting softly, his glasses going foggy from his breaths. It was getting on his nerves, so Siebren plucked them off Harold’s face, depositing them on the bed. Harold’s eyes widen, and Siebren swore he could see specks of gold in the dark brown. It reminded him of ring galaxies, and the stars, and the infiniteness of space. In that moment, Siebren was a comet, pulled in to Harold’s orbit, waiting to burn in his atmosphere.

He leaned forward, his free hand pulling Harold toward him. Harold made a squeak of surprise, but it was interrupted by the collision of Siebren’s lips upon his own. Siebren didn’t know what he was doing, just that he wanted—no, _needed_ —to do this. His fears were quelled when Harold kissed back with equal fervor, moaning passionately into Siebren’s mouth. Harold adjusted himself into Siebren’s lap, his erection poking into Siebren’s chiselled stomach.

“Harold,” Siebren gasped.

“Close,” he whimpered. “Please, Siebren. Give this to me.”

Siebren grunted, his hand wrapping around both their members, stroking them both slowly. Harold gasped obscenely, and then he dipped down to kiss Siebren again, and again, each kiss lasting longer than the last. Harold’s hands splay over Siebren’s chest, rolling over his arms and trailing over his defined abs, making patterns with his fingertips that resembled no mortal language.

“Harold,” Siebren moaned quietly, unable to figure out where to put his other hand, whether this soft kissing was proper etiquette for sex, if he was making Harold feel nearly as good as he felt. They weren't even having proper penetrative sex, but this was still the best Siebren's ever had. He could never go back. No one else could make him feel so perfectly blissful. “Harold, _Harold_.”

“Siebren.” Harold’s hand wrapped around Siebren’s, making him stroke faster. He said the name like a prayer, a wish, a plea for more. That name sounded so erotic from his lips. It wasn't fair. “ _Yes, Siebren, yes. Siebren_!”

That was all Siebren needed to release, his cum staining their stomachs. He wanted to collapse, but he was barely holding on by Harold’s hand, still stroking both their cocks at a furious pace that was making Siebren dizzy. Harold’s muscles tensed, his jaw clenched, and suddenly a long string of incomprehensible words escaped his throat as he too came. Harold panted heavily, his eyes drooped closed, and then he collapsed on top of Siebren, pinning him down to the mattress.

His lips were centimetres from Siebren’s face. That was the first thing Siebren thought. His second thought was that Harold looked gorgeous like this, with his flushed cheeks and adorable eyes and open mouth. His third thought was on the strange constriction he felt in his chest, a neutron star in formation. It felt weird, but not unpleasant. In fact, it felt perfect, like his post-coital bliss was blanketed by the sun's rays, taking him up to space. And Harold was the cause of it.

Before he could even think, Siebren cupped Harold's face tenderly, took a breath, and kissed him softly on the lips. Harold didn't hesitate to kiss back, holding Siebren close, his movements slow and lethargic but eager, like he was softly caressing Siebren with his tongue. There was no lust in their kiss, no lingering need other than a desire to connect with another human being spiritually. The kiss felt like it lasted days, and when they finally retreated, Siebren was greeted with a dazzling smile that made his heart somersault.

It was all Dr Winston’s fault in the end. He was entirely the reason for everything.

“That was…” Siebren began.

“That was…” Harold said at the same time.

The two of them trailed off, then laughed quietly. The gentle caress of Harold’s laugh tickled Siebren’s cheek.

“You go first,” Siebren said.

“No, you.”

“Fine.” Tentatively, he placed his hands on Harold’s shoulders. “That was certainly not what I expected. But it wasn’t bad.” That was a massive understatement, not that he’d ever admit that to Harold. Not even in this marvellous afterglow. 

“Are you talking about the blow job, the sex just now, or...?”

“All of them,” Siebren admitted. "Everything. It's all marvelous."

Harold blushed brightly “Well, I think that was pretty hot, in a lot of ways. This place really needs some better air-conditioning.”

“And here I thought you were just a naturally sweaty person,” Siebren smirked.

“Well, I am that,” Harold chuckled. His eyes hardened into something serious. “Can I say something to you? Honestly? No judgement?”

Harold traced a pattern on Siebren's cheek. Siebren held his breath.

“I am _starving_.”

Siebren huffed, whether from relief or disappointment he wasn’t sure. “There’s a dumpling place nearby that’s open late. My students say it is good although I haven’t been myself.”

"Is this a date?” Harold laughed. "First sex, then food? A bit backwards, isn't it?"

He should say no, this wasn't a date. He shouldn’t have even mentioned a dumpling place was in their vicinity because he should not entertain the possibility that a relationship could blossom between him and Harold Winston. But maybe it was the post-coital bliss from what was easily the best sex of his life, or the smooth jazz still playing in the background, or those eyes like black holes sucking him in past the event horizon.

He couldn’t escape Harold. It was too late for that. He might as well just enjoy the ride, whether it may take him.

“What if I said I wanted it to be?” Siebren asked quietly.

Harold grinned brightly, taking his glasses and fixing them on his face. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, you know. Our jobs, our interests, what kind of relationship we're looking for between the two of us. I don't think this is the last time we're going to end up on a bed together.”

“That’s not an answer,” Siebren pointed out.

Harold rolled his eyes. “If you said you wanted it to be a date, I’d say I’d be more than happy. Hypothetically, that is.”

Siebren smirked. “A promising hypothesis. As scientists, we should conduct experiments to see if our hypotheses are correct."

It really was all Harold's fault, Siebren decided, as they went to the dumpling place and talking about everything and anything under the sun, laughing and smiling without a care in the world. As Siebren felt Harold's hand brushed his for the hundredth time in the row, he decided that perhaps that wasn't a bad thing at all. 


End file.
